Chapter 348: Remember Not to Be a Traitor in the Next Life

The Great Ming Laws state: If any powerful individuals or officials, along with soldiers and civilians, construct large ships with three masts or more in violation of regulations, set sail with prohibited goods to trade in foreign countries, collude with pirates, form gangs for robbery, or act as guides to plunder ordinary people, the principal offenders shall be executed according to the relevant laws, their heads shall be displayed publicly, and their entire families shall be sent to serve in the border garrisons. Those who build such ships and sell them to foreigners for profit shall be punished as if they had sent prohibited military weapons at sea; the ringleaders shall be executed, while the accomplices shall be sent to serve in the border areas.

For decades, coastal merchants and common people had been oppressed by these strict restrictions. Now that the sea ban was quietly lifted, it felt almost unbelievable. Many people, dressed in fine or ordinary clothing, went to the Maritime Trade Office and came out either overjoyed or worried—not because of lack of permits, but because even the most skilled cook cannot cook without ingredients. Even if the sea ban was lifted, ships were needed. So many people wanted to seek wealth at sea, but where were the ships?

Zhang Yue certainly had no intention of solving all these problems for everyone. He wasn’t a god; he couldn’t interfere in everything. If small ships capable of sailing at sea could be built along the coasts of Fujian and Guangdong during the earlier sea ban, then it was even easier now. Although 500-shi ships carried great risks at sea, it was already extremely difficult to get the emperor to lift the ban. Could one expect Zhu Di to approve the construction of large ships by ordinary people right away? Since he and Wang Darong spent the entire night finalizing all the details, he felt that the eunuch in charge of the Maritime Trade Office had changed his attitude toward him significantly—at least he was no longer hypocritically respectful.

In just over half a month, the Maritime Trade Office issued fifty permits, each costing 100 guan in cash, totaling 5,000 guan—equivalent to just over 60 taels of silver. This was a drop in the bucket for those merchants, yet everyone was overjoyed. With the arrival of these wealthy merchants, the tribute envoys who already traded at the Maritime Trade Office had even more choices. Not only were their goods sold out, but their return ships were also fully loaded.

All was ready except for the final approval—Zhang Yue finally received the urgent imperial edict sent from Beijing. He had thought his reputation as a butcher might spread as far as the south, but after carefully examining the edict, he sighed in relief—this time, for the smuggler ships captured while hunting pirates, only the shipowners would be executed; the rest would be sent to garrisons along the coast to serve as sailors and atone for their crimes. Those smugglers in Ningbo Prefecture with conclusive evidence of guilt, if not colluding with pirates, would be treated the same as the former. All those who had secretly communicated with pirates for three months under shackles were ordered to be displayed publicly in front of the Maritime Administration forever. The assassins captured during the city-wide search were beheaded publicly, while Fan Tong and other suspects were taken to Nanjing.

Although Yue Changtian was nowhere to be found, Zhang Yue didn’t make a big deal out of it. Even if he was still on a grain transport ship, there were thousands of such ships along the canal—where could he find him?

He was busy following the edict. He executed hundreds of people in Qingzhou and killed dozens more by intercepting pirates outside Shanghai County. By the time the seven assassins captured during the city-wide search were brought to the execution ground to be beheaded, he had become numb. For the onlookers, beheadings paled in comparison to the over a hundred people who were forced to stand in shackles in front of the Maritime Administration forever. Due to the cold weather, the wooden shackles were replaced with ones weighing fifty jin each, and several corpses were burned daily in the cremation grounds on the northern outskirts—a truly terrifying sight.

One day, a few curious onlookers noticed two carriages with blue canopies parked on the wide street in front of the Maritime Administration, surrounded by neatly dressed soldiers. Soon, someone sent to gather information rushed back, saying the two imperial envoys were setting off that day. Hearing this, even more people gathered. When they saw Zhang Yue stepping out and boarding the carriage from afar, someone in the crowd muttered, “The bloodthirsty butcher Zhang is finally gone!”

Suddenly, from among the two rows of prisoners wearing heavy shackles on either side of the Maritime Administration’s wall, someone started shouting loudly, “Beheading is just cutting off the head—if you’ve got guts, kill me! I don’t want to suffer slowly!” Zhang Yue, who was about to board the carriage, stopped immediately. Turning around, he spotted the man among the prisoners. The man was in his early thirties, short in stature, but appeared tough. While others in shackles were barely able to stand, he could still stand upright. Seeing Zhang Yue look at him, his eyes flashed with fury, and he continued to shout defiantly.

“Sir, either kill us outright with a single stroke or give us a chance to atone for our sins! In this life, who doesn’t make mistakes? Who isn’t greedy for wealth? Why should only we die? That Fan Tong who colluded with the pirates, along with other officials who harbored them, and those corrupt officials who amassed huge sums of money… Why must only we suffer such hardships?”
His shout was so loud that the onlookers heard it, and Wang Darong certainly did as well. He immediately grew furious, his face turning red, and ordered his men to whip the man. Yet when the man stepped forward, his raised hand was caught before it could swing down. Turning to curse, he saw it was Zhang Yue and quickly retreated in embarrassment.
“You’re right. In this life, who doesn’t make mistakes? So if what one does to make a living doesn’t harm others, it can be forgiven.”
Zhang Yue said calmly. Seeing the man’s eyes light up with joy, he suddenly snapped, “But there are mistakes that cannot be forgiven! If someone forces you to spy for the pirates by threatening your family, or if the pirates kidnap you and force you to commit evil deeds, that’s at least understandable. But you did it willingly! You sold food and water to the pirates and passed messages to them time and again—do you know how many people died because of you? The pirates spare no one, not even infants, precisely because of traitors like you! Atone for your sins? What merit do you have to exchange for the lives of those innocent people? Your life is your life, but isn’t theirs also worth something?”
Neither Lu Feng nor Lingxi Hupo Qiuhen, who was already in the carriage, had ever seen Zhang Yue so enraged. Wang Darong was so frightened he staggered, secretly glad he hadn’t been blinded by greed and colluded with the pirates. The onlookers exchanged glances for a while, and those whose relatives or friends had died in the pirate raids began to cheer.
Glancing coldly at the man whose face was as lifeless as death, Zhang Yue sneered, “Remember not to be a traitor in your next life!”
With that, he turned and boarded the carriage without looking back. Once the curtain was drawn, he ordered them to set off. Amid the sound of the wheels, he heard countless cheers and took a deep breath. Water that’s too clear has no fish, but some things can be tolerated while others cannot. By seeing these people suffer such tragic fates today, there will be fewer traitors tomorrow, the pirates will find it harder to operate along the coasts, and the Great Ming won’t be dragged into chaos by pirate raids!

“Young master, those words are truly wonderful!” Qiu Hen, sitting next to Zhang Yue, naturally pulled at his sleeve, her eyes filled with excitement. “Listen, everyone is praising him! Remember not to be a traitor in your next life… It sounds so inspiring!”
Ling Xi and Amber were already people who thought deeply. When they first boarded the carriage and saw those rows of prisoners wearing heavy shackles, they felt some pity. But after hearing Zhang Yue’s words, they suddenly realized their mistake. So, when Qiu Hen said that, Ling Xi also nodded shyly: “I was wondering if the emperor’s punishment was too severe, but now I understand that since they harmed so many people, only severe punishment can serve as a warning so that more people won’t follow their example.”
“The common people are not afraid of death; how can death be used to frighten them? But even those who aren’t afraid of death still fear waiting helplessly for death.”
Amber muttered softly before letting out a deep sigh. What Zhang Yue said was indeed good, but what concerned her more was his other remark—that there are mistakes one must not make. After all, her grandfather Qiu Fu had once rashly spoken about choosing an heir, and later suffered a disastrous defeat in the northern campaign—both were mistakes with no chance of redemption. Her cousin also kept provoking others over and over again—wasn’t that also repeated mistakes?
Just as she was in a state of turmoil, she felt her cold left hand suddenly grabbed. A warm sensation spread from his palm. Looking up, her gaze met Zhang Yue’s, and she was stunned. Before she could say anything, a thick fox fur blanket was thrown over her head and face, covering her tightly.
“Don’t worry so much. Just cover yourself well and rest for a while. You’ll arrive in Dinghai by the time you wake up. This time, we’ll take a ship around the river to Nanjing.”
Before Amber could speak, Qiu Hen squeezed herself under the same blanket and started whispering in her ear with a smile. Being older, Ling Xi didn’t act recklessly like Qiu Hen. She handed a hand warmer to Zhang Yue and arranged for a cloak to be placed over his knees, adding a dark green velvet armor piece herself. Even so, as the carriage moved, cold wind seeped in through the gaps in the cotton curtains, and the four of them gradually curled up under the fox fur blanket, their feet touching each other.
“In such cold weather, is it okay for the young master to let Brother Zhao and the others escort Miss Fan to Nanjing?”

“She can’t delay treating this injury; even in the coldest weather, we have to try.” Seeing Qiu Hen frown and sigh, Zhang Yue couldn’t help but tease her, “Who was it who kept staring at her all the time back then? And now here you are, acting so concerned. I’ve already instructed Zhao Hu and the other two to escort her carefully along the way. Miss Fan knows some medical skills too, so she won’t act recklessly.”

Though Qiu Hen liked Zhang Yue’s affectionate attitude, she wasn’t pleased with his mocking tone. She immediately climbed into Lingxi’s arms and huffed, “What will you do with her once she’s delivered to Nanjing, young master? And besides, since those who colluded with the Japanese pirates deserve death, what about Princess Yongping…” She stopped speaking halfway, forcing herself to end the sentence. Of course, she couldn’t accuse a noblewoman of being tried like a commoner, but she still felt uneasy.

“Her legs are hers to use. If she survives, she can go anywhere in the world. Why should I decide her fate? Besides, Princess Yongping and the Marquis of Fuyang have already gone to Beijing; no one will likely recognize her.” Zhang Yue lazily closed his eyes. Thinking about the upcoming New Year’s Eve reunion while those harmed by the Japanese raids would forever lie in the cold ground, he sighed inwardly. He could only voice those thoughts to himself.

“A prince who breaks the law is subject to the same punishment as commoners. Those who colluded with the Japanese pirates deserve death, and those behind them too!”

“A prince who breaks the law is subject to the same punishment as commoners? Pah, that’s just nonsense for kids!”

At the same time, Yue Changtian, who had boarded a ship at Dinghai Wharf, cursed silently. Ever since the failure of the White Lotus Sect, he had keenly sensed that something was wrong. Fortunately, he was quick to flee and managed to escape the assassins sent by Zhu Zhan Tan, the heir to the Han King. Though he had long known the saying that once the rabbit is caught, the hounds are discarded, he never expected retribution to come so swiftly. Thanks to his skills and the leverage he held, Zhu Zhan Tan didn’t dare to pursue him openly, allowing him to settle comfortably on a cargo ship. From then on, he stopped worrying about his family’s future, filled only with an inexplicable resentment.

Why was he treated like a stray dog? Why could those in the royal family get everything just by talking?

Thinking of having broken Zhang Yue’s Imperial Sword with a single arrow, Yue Changtian felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. He had deceived Princess Yongping into trusting him using the Seal of the King of Han, and earlier in Beijing, he had vouched for that old fool Huang Yan. As a result, by stoking tensions on both sides, Fan Tong and Fan Xiyan, who thought they were clever, fell into the trap without realizing it. Yet what pleased him the most was that astonishing arrow shot—after all, it had taken him great effort to ensure the arrow didn’t hit Zhang Yue’s throat!
Weren’t the King of Zhao and Huang Yan trying to use Zhang Yue to control Zhang Fu? With such a major mistake having occurred this time, he was curious to see what methods they would use to rescue Zhang Yue in order to curry favor with Zhang Fu. As for Zhang Yue, still acting as if nothing had happened and returning to the capital, he wanted to see how that kid could maintain such a calm expression.